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KALLIE
“Stop that.”
“Stop what?” Kallie asked, looking over her shoulder.
“The tapping,” Myra said, pointing to the ground as she set the dress on Kallie’s bed.
Kallie followed her gaze and noticed her foot tapping the chair’s leg post. She uncrossed her legs and planted both feet firmly on the ground before straightening in the seat.
“Thank you,” Myra said, flattening a hand down the front of her dress. “It was making me nervous.”
Kallie dug the heels of her palms into her eye sockets, yet the queasiness did not go away. No matter how hard she pressed or how hard she tried to distract her body, the nausea persevered. There were no events today in order to give the bride and groom time to relax before the big day tomorrow. However, Kallie had found no comfort in the extravagant bath Myra had drawn for her that morning. Kallie hadn’t even found comfort in talking to Myra and dismissed her friend before she disrobed and bathed herself. No amount of oils or kind words could soothe the strain in her muscles today. And sometimes, she could still feel Sebastian’s hand wrapped around her throat.
Myra had returned to assist Kallie with her hair, so now Kallie was stuck staring at Myra at a reflection of herself she did not recognize.
After grabbing the brush off the vanity, Myra came to stand behind Kallie at the vanity. “I understand you’re nervous about the wedding, but—”
“It’s not the wedding,” Kallie blurted and snatched the brush from Myra’s hand. “I can brush my own hair.”
“Then what is it?”
Kallie’s mouth fell open, but she snapped it shut. She didn’t know how to explain everything that had happened last night to Myra, for it would require Kallie to be honest with her friend about several things she had been keeping secret. It was one thing for Myra to know that Kallie was still grieving, but it was another for Myra to know that Kallie had let Graeson go.Twice.
But Kallie needed her best friend. She needed the walls to stop closing in around her.
Outside, rain tapped on the windows. The Frenzian fog that hung over the city finally had its fill.
“It’s going to be all right, Kals,” Myra said after the silence loomed too long, squeezing Kallie’s shoulders.
Kallie flinched at the touch, and her gaze fell to the items atop the vanity. “Myra . . . there’s a lot you do not know.”
“Whatever it is, you can tell me.” Myra reached out a hand, and as Kallie made to dodge her hand, her hair fell off her shoulders.
Myra gasped, her hand flying to her mouth. “Kals! What—what happened?”
Kallie’s eyes widened, and she snapped her gaze to her reflection in the mirror. Bright green and purple bruises marked her pale neck. Kallie quickly brushed her hair forward, covering the bruises.
“Nothing,” she mumbled. “I fell.”
“You fell?” Myra stepped closer and pushed the hair away. “On your neck?”
Kallie bit down on her tongue. It was a bad lie. She knew it when she said it, but what was she supposed to say instead? Where was she supposed to begin?
The rain crashed harder against the glass window pane.
How could she tell her friend that she was beginning to question her father’s choices? She was still the Princess of Ardentol. To speak out against the king’s plans was to commit treason.
But if marrying a king wasn’t enough for him, what would be? Her father wouldn’t need a backup plan if he trusted her and her gift. He wouldn’t have even thought to make Sebastian one of them. Sebastian, whom Kallie had saved from Graeson’s wrath. Sebastian, who believed he owned her. She could not marry that man. She could not look into the eyes of the man who had killed her brother without a hint of remorse. Even if that marriage was only a possibility, Sebastian was still Rian’s brother, one of his advisors. She couldn’t look in those eyes every day and not see that night flash in his green irises. Not see Sebastian try to force himself on her.
She hated Sebastian. She hated him with every ounce of her body.
But at that moment, she hated herself more. Because if it weren’t for her, if she hadn’t given that command to the soldier, maybe Fynn would still be alive.
Myra peeled the brush out of Kallie’s hand, setting it on the vanity. Then she pulled Kallie into her arms.
Kallie leaned into Myra’s embrace and inhaled. The bath oils swept over Kallie, a calming scent that, for a second, made Kallie want to forget everything she had done. But she couldn’t live in silence anymore. Kallie had been quiet for too long. She could no longer keep everything locked up inside of her. For if she did, it would tear her apart. She needed to tell someone. Even if doing so meant changing Myra’s entire opinion of her.
“I stabbed Sebastian,” Kallie mumbled into Myra’s hair.
